


Unseasonably Warm

by burntoutmatchstick



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comfort, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Makeout Session, One Shot, summer feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burntoutmatchstick/pseuds/burntoutmatchstick
Summary: The afternoon is stifling and Robbe is grumpy and missing Sander.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 9
Kudos: 137





	1. Chapter 1

Heat from the unseasonably warm day lingered, even as the afternoon wore down to evening. A single bead of sweat dripped from Robbe's temple. He wiped it away, unfocused gaze resting on the scenery that flickered past his window. The bus was almost stifling; he wished he was on his board right now, could almost feel the breeze shifting through his hair as he rolled down the pavement if he imagined hard enough. Ever since he and his mother had moved, it was just slightly too far to reasonably skate. Especially if he was already late coming home.

Fucking detention.

Honestly, it hadn't even been his fault. Jens and Moyo had been up to _something_ in the back of the classroom and Robbe just _happened_ to be there when the teacher looked up (admittedly, after more than one warning). Guilty by association. He really should be used to it by now.

His thumb instinctively pressed against the home button of his phone and the lock screen lit up. In his screensaver, Sander's smile grinned back at him from behind the date and time, his mouth crooked mid grin, eyes half closed in a crinkly laugh. No messages, though. Robbe wasn't really sure why he was checking; habit, probably. He knew that Sander was going out this evening with his college friends, making the most of the beautiful day. Robbe had been invited, but that had been before the detention debacle, and now it was too late to join them.

Between Sander's assignment load and Robbe's mother having a challenging week, it had been a few days since Robbe and Sander had seen each other. He watched the image of his boyfriend fade to black on his phone and sighed, deeper than he'd been expecting.

He missed Sander. Nothing was wrong, exactly, but there was this prickling at the edge of Robbe's mind, an uncomfortable current that ran through his body that only Sander could placate. Robbe thought about calling him, just to say hi and hear his voice, but decided against it. _'Let him enjoy time with his friends_ ,' he thought to himself. He'd call him later, maybe when he was getting ready for bed. Hearing Sander's voice, tired and croaky in his ear, was one of Robbe's favourite sounds of all time.

The plastic of the seat stuck uncomfortably to Robbe's t-shirt when he shifted, getting ready for his stop. Finally the bus rolled to a halt and Robbe was the first off, backpack swinging wildly as he jumped down from the step, desperately seeking any kind of breeze. Outside provided some relief, but it was minor. Robbe ran a hand through his unruly hair as he waited on the sidewalk for the bus to trundle away. He really needed a haircut, he thought to himself as he half jogged across the road. He'd been having that thought for a while now, as a matter of fact, but every time he considered it, he remembered the aghast look on Sander's face after he'd mentioned it to him a few weeks back, and here he was still, days getting warmer and hair getting longer.

The street was busy with people on their way home from work as Robbe walked on, head down, sweat tickling the back of his neck. His new apartment was at the top of a small hill, a hill that normally gave him no cause for concern, but today seemed like an insurmountable mountain. Robbe paused at the bottom, uttering a quick ' _sorry'_ to the man who grunted as he sidestepped from behind him to avoid collision.

It wasn't just the heat; Robbe was in a funk and he knew it. Additionally, he knew how to get out of it, but what was he meant to do when the solution to his problems was on the other side of town, probably sitting by the river, laughing and having an excellent time with his friends? Head down again, Robbe pushed on, dragging his weary legs behind him. By the time he reached the top of the hill, he could feel the redness in his cheeks, the beads of sweat that had been prickling at his neck now a full-blown river down his shoulder blades. He could see his little apartment block now, just down the alley behind a curved iron gate. He was so focused on the thought of ripping his backpack off and chugging a tall glass of cold water that he almost didn't notice the figure leaning casually against the brick wall, almost didn't hear the soft;

"Wow, you look _hot_."

Robbe pulled up short in his tracks. 

"Wat.." he muttered stupidly as his eyes caught up with his brain. As Sander lurched forwards from his lean against the wall and moved towards him, Robbe felt his face crack into a wide grin.

Sander took long steps, meeting Robbe in the middle of the street. In answer to his question, he took Robbe's jaw gently into his palm, tilting his face up and smiling down at him until their lips met in a gentle kiss. Almost like magic, Robbe felt the tension evaporate from his entire body. He dropped his face from their kiss and leant his head into Sander's shoulder, into the nook where his forehead fit perfectly, and breathed deeply. Sander smelt like ink and sweat and grass, and Robbe couldn't get enough.

"Hi," said Sander after a moment, draping his arms around Robbe's shoulders and pulling him closer. 

"What are you doing here?" Robbe asked into Sander's shoulder. "You're meant to be out with your friends."

"I was," Sander replied. "But it was such a beautiful afternoon, it seemed a waste not to spend it with the most beautiful boy, even if he _has_ become a rebel since the last time I saw him." Sander laughed into the top of Robbe's hair and kissed his forehead gently.

Robbe groaned. "I'm going to kill Jens and Moyo, slowly and deliberately."

Sander dropped his arms, snaking them between Robbe's back and his bag, trying to draw them closer together, but Robbe squirmed away.

"I'm all sweaty," he laughed in protest, stepping backwards to get a better look at his boyfriend.

"Just the way I like you," Sander said, his voice suddenly low and intense.

He held Robbe's gaze just long enough for the redness of Robbe's face to transform from heat to blush, before he broke and burst into a loud laugh. Robbe laughed too, standing on his toes slightly to press a kiss to Sander's cheek. The mood that had been broiling in Robbe's mind merely moments before was now forgotten at the bottom of the hill.

Sander slipped his arm down Robbe's, entwining their fingers together in a firm grip. It took barely any sun for the buttery tones of Sander's skin to shine through, making the contrast between their skin tones even more stark than normal. Robbe took him in for a moment, admiring the way the sun highlighted the bronze tones in his brown hair now that it was healthy and bleach free. Sander was wearing a grey t-shirt that fit snugly against his frame, and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at Robbe.

"How come you look like you just stepped out of a holiday pamphlet promoting hot people summer, and I look like..." Robbe gestured to his red, sweaty body.

Sander raised one eyebrow in question. "Robbe, if you could see yourself the way I see you right now, all tousled and sweaty and red faced...." Sander's words trailed off as he pressed his lips against Robbe's once more, his kiss heavier and more insistent this time.

The tip of Sander's tongue dipped out from between his teeth, tracing over Robbe's lips, tasting him. Robbe shuddered slightly and took a deep breath as Sander broke away, pressing their foreheads together.

"I've missed you," Sander sighed.

" _I've_ missed _you_ ," Robbe said.

"We should probably do something about that," Sander whispered, slowly rubbing his forehead back and forth against Robbe's.

In answer, Robbe tugged on Sander's hand, pulling him towards the apartment. Sander laughed at his determination, the light and airy sound bouncing down the sunlit alleyway as the pair made their way inside.


	2. Teach Me Your Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sander wants to help Robbe ease some of the tension from the day....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on expanding the oneshot, but these soft boys live rent free in my mind and I wanted to give Sander a chance to improve Robbe's day!

The window was open wide in an attempt to let in some of the afternoon breeze. In reality, all it seemed to be letting in were sounds from the street below; sirens wailing in the distance, the hustle and bustle of people on their way home, on their way to dinner, in the middle of an argument, a group of youths singing the latest TikTok sound; the last notes carrying through the still air into Robbe’s bedroom.

Sander lay shirtless on Robbe’s bed, his dark grey duvet scrunched up beneath his stomach. He sucked in a deep breath and released it, rolling his shoulders trying to loosen up. Between the heat of the afternoon and the textbook that stared accusingly up at him, Sander couldn’t get comfortable. He flicked his eyes up for what felt like the thousandth time to survey Robbe’s back, hunched forward over his desk by the window. Sander could see the sweat stains that decorated the space in between his boyfriend’s shoulder blades, highlighting (much to Sander’s dismay) that Robbe was still fully clothed. Sander had removed his own short earlier, partly due to the heat and also (definitely) partly as a shameless ploy to try and distract his boyfriend; but Robbe was holding firm. Study first, other stuff later he said. Sander was finding it increasingly hard to focus on the study part as his mind wound round and round what _other_ could entail.

He tried to stifle a sigh as he flipped the page of the textbook in front of him. He wasn’t sure why he was even pretending; he’d read the same sentence six times and still had no idea what he was meant to be understanding. The heavy art theory was Sander’s least favourite part of his course, and if his brain was even _slightly_ preoccupied…forget it. Instead of trying to read the same page _again_ , Sander shifted his focus, propping himself up more securely on one elbow so he could get a better look at Robbe.

Robbe’s desk faced the window and so he was illuminated by molten bronze as the sun began to contemplate its setting. Sander couldn’t help getting lost in the way the light reflected off Robbe’s unruly hair; deep browns and coppers and golds. He wished he had some watercolours in from of him right now, but wasn’t convinced he could do it justice. Robbe had briefly suggested getting a haircut weeks ago, but Sander was satisfied that his reaction had put that particular plan on hold, for the moment at least. There was no way Robbe could do that to him! His hair was the longest it had been since they got together and Sander was only just beginning to fall in love with the way Robbe’s hair curled around his ears, the way he could pull on a lock and watch it spring back into place, the way the length was such more accommodating to having hands run through it, fingers twisted and pulled tight….

Sander cleared his throat, shifting his hips slightly at the feeling of pressure that was beginning to build there. Robbe had been clear; study first. And Sander had noticed that Robbe had seemed a little out of sorts before he’d surprised him this afternoon; whether it was the annoyance from an unfair detention, the stress of his mother’s difficult week, or (Sander allowed himself a self-indulgent smile), the pain of missing his dashing and handsome boyfriend, it seemed important to let him get on top of what he needed to. Sander just wished that getting on top of _him_ had been a bit higher up the priority list.

Shaking his head slightly and taking a deep breath, Sander tried one more time to focus on the page in front of him. Tried, and failed. He could feel the heat of the afternoon pressing all around him, the sounds of the street prickling at any attempt he made to concentrate. And being in Robbe’s room, on his bed, the air thick with the smell of Robbe; his sheets, his deodorant, his sweaty body sitting mere feet away; Sander felt like he might melt away. Without thinking, he closed his book abruptly, the sound of it snapping shut breaking the warm haze of the room. Sander cringed, watching Robbe out of the corner of his eye, hoping he wasn’t annoyed. Slowly, Robbe turned himself around on his swivel desk chair, the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile as he faced Sander.

‘Okay, okay. I get the message!’

‘What message?’ Sander asked, widening his eyes into what he hoped was a convincingly innocent expression.

Robbe snorted a laugh, and before Sander could react, he had launched himself from his chair and landed with a heavy thump on the bed beside Sander, the left half of his body pressed close to Sander’s right, Robbe’s left arm landing with a soft _smack_ around Sander’s bare shoulders.

‘If I fail my test tomorrow, I’m blaming you.’ Robbe sighed and pushed his face down into the mattress, closing his eyes.

Sander felt some of the tension ease from the shoulders that were wrapped around his own.

‘Don’t worry, you don’t need good grades anyway.’ Robbe muttered a half questioning noise, his eyes still closed. ‘Well, good grades are to get you into a good uni, which is to get you a good job. And you don’t need any of that, because the plan is for you to become my pretty house husband while I bring in the big bucks as the hottest artist on the New York scene.’ Sander explained, pushing sweaty hair from Robbe’s forehead.

Robbe snorted a laugh. ‘So, you’re going to be my sugar daddy, is that the plan?’

‘Emphasis on the daddy part.’ Sander said, poking his elbow into Robbe’s side.

Robbe laughed and squirmed away, putting distance between himself and Sander on the bed in the process.

‘ _Noo_ , come back’ Sander whined, wriggling his body over so he was pressed against Robbe again.

‘It’s too hot,’ Robbe protested, but didn’t make any attempt to move away again.

‘Well you’re wearing too many clothes, for a start,’ Sander said, his fingers dancing at the hem of Robbe’s t-shirt.

‘I think the human heater lying next to me isn’t helping either,’ Robbe said.

‘Is that your way of saying you think I’m hot?’ Sander queried impishly.

‘No, but this is. I think you’re hot.’ Robbe flicked his eyes open as he said this, cheeky smile on his face matching Sander’s tone. ‘Is that clear enough?’

‘Crystal,’ Sander said, laughing. He felt something suspiciously like a blush creep up over his cheeks. No matter how long he was with Robbe for, flirting with him still gave him butterflies.

They fell into comfortable silence for a while, outside sounds filling the small room again. Robbe closed his eyes once more as Sander traced his fingertips across his hipbone, where they still rested at the bottom of his shirt. Sander listened as Robbe’s breathing grew more rhythmic and he felt the final traces of tension leave his boyfriend’s body. After a while, thinking that Robbe had drifted off, Sander closed his own eyes, happy to simply be lying there together. He’d almost drifted off himself when the faintest slide of a finger down the side of his chest sent electric shocks across his skin. He shot his eyes open, all traces of tiredness evaporating in an instant.

Robbe was awake, his eyes wide and trained on Sander, darkening in a familiar way Sander knew well, in a way that sent the electric shocks ricocheting down to somewhere deep in his stomach.

Sander raised an eyebrow, questioning, inviting. Robbe licked his lips, wetness glistening on them in the orange light of the setting sun. Before Sander could react, Robbe had pushed himself up onto one elbow, bringing one arm around to the other side of Sander’s neck, caging him in. Robbe brought his face down low, lips millimetres from Sander’s.

‘You’re like, _really_ hot,’ Robbe said, and Sander felt the warmth of his breath against his own lips.

Unable to wait a moment longer, Sander lifted his head from the mattress and caught Robbe’s mouth in a sloppy kiss. He could feel Robbe smile above him, as he shifted his weight, swinging one of his legs across as well until he was hovering above Sander. Robbe deepened their kiss, pushing Sander’s head back down onto the bed. Sander traced his hands up Robbe’s chest, looping them around his neck and pulling him closer. Robbe’s lips tasted salty and sweaty and Sander drank it up.

Robbe readjusted his position above Sander, bringing one of his knees in between Sander’s leg, accidentally brushing his crotch as he did so. Sander gasped at the feeling of friction, his kisses suddenly moving from languid to needy. Robbe laughed as Sander broke their mouths apart only to demand ‘ _Off, off, off_ ’ tugging at Robbe’s t-shirt.

They wrestled with it for a moment, laughing as Sander tried to help, getting their arms tangled instead, until _finally_ his angel boyfriend was shirtless above him, body bathed in the afternoon light.

‘You’re beautiful’ Sander whispered with a contented sigh.

Robbe smiled, ducking his head down to kiss Sander again. Sander opened his mouth, unable to control a groan as Robbe’s tongue found its way inside. Sander grabbed Robbe by the shoulders, pulling him down so that his entire weight was on top of him, their bare chests pressed together. Sander could feel how sweaty they were both becoming as he held Robbe close, moving just slightly so he could feel Robbe’s nipples rub against his own, feel the angles of Robbe’s ribcage against his own chest. Desperate for some kind of friction, Sander abruptly rolled them over so that he was on top, his own discarded textbook falling to the floor with a heavy crash in the process.

Robbe grinned into Sander’s mouth as the noise broke the spell for a moment.

‘I sense a flaw in the sugar daddy plan. How are you meant to become a successful artist if you don’t make it through art school?’ Robbe asked.

‘Eh, formal education is severely overrated,’ Sander said. ‘Besides, I like to learn by _experience.’_

To demonstrate his point, Sander dropped his mouth back down to meet Robbe’s, dropping his hand down to grip one of Robbe’s thighs. He kept pressure in his fingers as he moved his hand up Robbe’s leg, revelling in the feeling of Robbe squirming against him, reeling in the sounds his boyfriend made beneath him as his hand drew closer to his crotch until he was cupping the rapidly hardening outline there.

‘I can…think of a couple of experiences…I’d like to have right now,’ Robbe got out between panting breaths.

‘Oh really?’ Sander raised an eyebrow, fingers reaching expertly for Robbe’s zipper. ‘ _Please_ , Mr. Ijzermans, teach me your tricks.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
